Speaking of 2020, what about 2019?

Hi friends, been a while hasn’t it?

It hasn’t? What do you mean you don’t care? Why the hell do I keep writing about myself?

Well… lets just kind of take a look at where we are at right now. We’re all sorta stuck with ourselves, and only ourselves in cases such as mine. Sure I live with a cat but all cats are fascists and we hear enough of that from the news so it’s good to eventually just ignore the horrible shit that they say.

And before you say that cats can’t talk… you’re right. I’m just going crazy.


So yeah, the world is in quite the pickle right now isn’t it? We’re all at home, rich fuckheads are trying to get us out of home because they are literally walking piles of beaver cum, and we’re all stuck with ourselves and our thoughts.

And I saw something funny right now. It was a tweet about how people in this situation may be more susceptible to the horrible activity of texting one’s ex for services of a moist manner. Now, I’m guilty of the texting part since I am a lonely piece of shit and miss some of the former camaraderie of these people who I once called good friends. Best friends even! Honestly only friends, which is a big part of why these things went so south as they did.

“I Love You, 2, Man” is a script I am writing specifically for Judd Apatow. It is mostly based on my sad ass life and will star Macaulay Culkin as an alcoholic duck who is left alone after each relationship he is in because he has no other friends.
I really like ducks. 😊

And of course those conversations fall very fast and I am left on my living room carpet, breathing in the dead skin, cat litter, hair and mold and semen that make up the micro-ecology that make up the rich tapestry of my life now. I’ve yet to text any one of those people for anything more than that because I have far too much respect for them for that. Also every single one is shacked up with someone else and as Kanye West once said, “I ain’t no gold digger.”

But God… 2019 was a weird year for me. It was probably my sluttiest year ever… and that’s really not saying much. At all. In fact saying that to some people would result in me being laughed at and the whole tray of deserts being dropped to the ground, mingling the frosting with the ants and then I would vomit all over it and I would never be allowed to a party with Marilyn Manson again. I don’t wish to talk about it.

Point of the story is, I have thought of texting those people for sex. Which… is sorta gross. Why does the mind just fail so badly when people are horny? It’s a really strange thing. I know some people say that alcohol is capable of lowering inhibitions but Christ, I think simply being horny is enough for that. It’s like a switch where you just turn stupid and ignore everything about that person that bothered you in the first place because you want to make a puddle on their kitchen counter comprised of your individual fluids and some xiaoxing wine you bought years ago for a recipe and knocked over in a heat of passion.


I’ve yet to open that cooking wine by the way. No idea what it smells like. I’m guessing it probably smells like vinegar. This is a hot take on cooking wines. They smell like vinegar. Probably why they aren’t made for consumption. This is basically the most important thing I have ever written.

Edit: since originally writing this, I’ve since discovered I actually don’t have any xiaoxing wine. Not sure why I thought I did.

The sort of people I knew last year that would take me up on such an offer, unfortunately, are really not the types of people you would expect me with. Lovely people who do their own things in their own right, but it’s just a strange change of character for me.

Also, I say this meaning I did a lot of dating last year as well. Again, for me at least.

And that is a hard thing to do, especially in this day and age. And of course I’m screwy with getting close to people, like everyone is, and the topic de jour of dating nowadays is “ghosting.”

Ghosting is bullshit, and not just because I have been ghosted. A lot. But more the feeling I have when I do it, and look back on that. And it’s been something I’ve done far more than I am super happy with in the last year. I look back on my behavior and realize that, hey Jesus, I’ve been a total asshole!

And Jesus doesn’t like assholes. He looks at me on that cross… making me feel bad for shaving my scrotum because I think the person I’m seeing will like it. I don’t know why I still have a crucifixion icon in the bathroom, let alone the shower.

Someday I’ll take it down but I glued it to the tile and this is a rental. Turpentine is becoming harder to find thanks to certain statutes in California unfortunately, and it’s illegal in Alabama to soak an icon in turpentine.

For some reason each and every state has an extradition treaty to Alabama for this.

It’s a strange feeling though. Whether you are the one who stops talking, the other person, or both just sort of talk less until the conversation eventually flounders off and you wonder why there are no more new messages on your phone from anything but the guy that left the cold burger I ordered 57 minutes ago in front of my mailbox because they had no idea how to get in my building.

The code is not complicated. Why does no one know how to use the fucking codes!? That burger is my destiny. And people linked by destiny will always find one another.

So where am I going with this? I don’t really know; but it is definitely interesting how dating sort of is now. And I’m mostly mentioning this through an online dating perspective, because I am afraid of humans and don’t know how to even meet friends. Something I need to fix in my old and fat age of 31 (^2kg), but have no idea how to because I’m fucking 31 and never really learned how. Funny how that works, and being raised in Utah apart from any sort of community doesn’t seem to be super helpful with that.

Now, the sort of childhood trauma I went through is really stretching to how I behave now; but it can be relevant, though not to this story. But the people I knew through various dates last year mostly are no longer in my life. And that’s weird to me. All the effort and planning we take to just never talk to someone again. But we do it. Willingly even!

And of course not every single relationship is meant to be. I’m not making that claim or anything like that. That would be horrible for literally everyone, but I do wonder how dating was before. Did you just like, stop calling? Or did most people have a conversation?

I’m being mostly facetious of course, since most likely someone would ask for another date and then the second party would decline and that would be that in most cases I imagine, but it’s funny to think about.

So yeah, 2019 was a weird year for me. Weird in a far different way that this year; but definitely a far larger learning experience than anything this year has been. So when people say they miss 2019, I agree with them, despite all of the awkwardness and sadness that I went through.

And of course, I’m sorry to the people that I may have made sad. I think that’s what pains me the most. Rejection sucks a lot, and even worse when you have no idea why.